


The Last Laugh

by lielabell



Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 10:50:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lielabell/pseuds/lielabell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Boys always love a good round of jokes, pranks, surprise attacks, set-ups. But is a joke always just a joke, or is there something else behind that determined and mischievous glint in Spot's eyes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Laugh

Spot was up to something, no doubt about it, and Jack didn’t like that one bit. It was bad enough the boy had to come over here, poking his nose in Manhattan business like it was his right, but to start courting favor, to muscle in on Jack’s system of checks and balances? Well that was going too far.

And it wasn’t like Spot didn’t know what he was doing. No, he had been around here long enough to see that there was more to the pranks than met the eye. That Spot, he was as crafty a bastard as they came, always up to his neck in some scheme or other. A fella like that was bound to see the heart of the matter. Jack would give his papers away for free before he believed that Spot wasn’t undermining his unofficially claim to leadership.

Jack scowled and kicked a loose cobblestone, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. Spot was tinkering with his boys. Playing them one off of the other, laughing as the pranks spiraled out of control. Just yesterday he had sat with his arms crossed and a smirk on his lips, watching as Crutchy and Skittery pelted Race with fish heads that he had provided. And for what? To get back at him for leaving fish guts in their bunks. Which had also come straight from Brooklyn’s self-styled leader.

What point did any of that serve, except to rile up the boys against each other? And what use was doing any of that unless Spot was planning to move in on his territory. Damn that Spot and his mercenary ways. Jack had been a fool to think they were friends. A fool to let him spend as much time as he wanted lounging around the lodging house. Well, he wasn’t a fool any more and come morning it would be Spot who was damning him.

Jack smiled to himself, pulled his hands free and began to whistle. Only a few hours more and he would be free of Spot Conlon. He’d planned it perfectly, the best sting ever, and nothing could go wrong because he wasn’t counting on anyone but himself. He rounded the corner, making a beeline for the arranged meeting place. With a grunt, he pushed aside the rotting door and scrambled inside.

There was Spot, standing in the dead center of the room, that stupid smile of his firmly in place. Well, we’ll just see if it’s still there when I’m done with him, Jack thought, confident in his plan. He cocked his head to the side and gave Spot a slow once over. Spot did the same. Jack moved closer, eyes narrowing in expectation and held out his palm.

Spot didn’t hesitate. He took it, but instead of shaking he jerked hard. Jack nearly tumbled over, righting himself just in time. Before he knew what was happening, Spot caught hold of his bandana, tugging him even more off balance. Jack’s lips curled up in a sneer and he was on the verge of bawling Spot out when Spot did the unexpected.

He kissed him.

And not the tame sort of tightlipped kiss Jack had come to expect from his dalliances. No, this was a full throttled attack. Spot’s hands tangled in his hair. His lips moved restlessly and his breath came in little gasps that did more for Jack than the kiss itself. It took a concerted effort to break away from what Spot was offering, but Jack did. He dashed the back of his hand across his mouth, then turned his head and spit.

“What the hell did you do that for?” he demanded roughly.

Spot laughed. “Because if I left it to you we would have been pussyfooting around for the next five months, same as we have the last.”

Jack blinked, his mind frantically searching his memories to see what he had missed. He grimaced when he came up blank. “I thought you were muscling in on me,” he said because he could think of nothing better.

“I am.” Spot gave him that smug smile. Jack opened his mouth, feeling bitter and misused, but Spot stopped him with another of those fiery kisses. When it was over Jack licked his lips, confused and not knowing what to do.

“I’m muscling in on you with all that I’ve got,” Spot said, answering the question Jack hadn’t realized he was still asking. “Just not the way that you think.”


End file.
